


Concerning Dwarves

by MischiefManaged (orphan_account)



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cultural Differences, F/F, Lost in Translation, Wherein everyone was always the opposite gender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-05 08:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/MischiefManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It isn't that the dwarves were trying to be rude, for they were quite a kind and friendly group given the right circumstance. No, they simply had no regard for the hobbit's words, which were quite rude sounding to the company's ears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the Company

**Author's Note:**

> I just really just wanted to write about lady dwarves.

The thing about dwarves, Bilbo thought as she watched her entire pantry be brutally pillaged by calloused working hands, is that they care very little for the opinions of outsiders; save for those they trust to give them counsel. Which is why her cries of protest met with deaf ears as she ran to and from various scenes of chaos. It isn't that the dwarves were trying to be rude, for they were quite a kind and friendly group given the right circumstance. No, they simply had no regard for the hobbit's words, which were quite rude sounding to the company's ears. Why on Middle Earth would an accommodating host ask guests to put food back?

Bilbo stuttered after the largest dwarf with a hand raised futilely, trying to politely but firmly instate the need for a cheese knife. She was then informed by the infuriatingly chipper dwarf that "she eats it by the block." Bilbo took in a deep breath, letting it out with a distressed noise before flitting off to find Gandalf. 

She found the wizard sitting in the dining room with what members had gathered in there to set up food, gray hair strewn about her shoulders and mouth pumping out the sweet smoke of pipe-weed. "Gandalf," Bilbo entreated with a hiss. "May I have a word with you, please?"

Gandalf stood with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes and a twist to her mouth that didn't do anything to stave Bilbo's mounting distress. She gave a small bow and followed the hobbit to the living area, where Bilbo rounded on her and made a few grand hand gestures before her words found her again.

"Are there women in this company?" she asked, feeling entirely rude for having greeted them as men (as with hobbits, they have gender specific greetings.)

Gandalf smiled kindly, crouching down so as to be somewhat level with the small hobbit woman. "Dearest Bilbo, they are all women."

Bilbo squeaked, nodded, and then padded out of the room in a hurry to find a vase and flowers lest her guests find her entirely offensive. 

When she entered the room with it, the dwarf named Dwalin took one look at the flowers before curling her lip with disgust. "What're you doin' with that?" 

"I, um. Nothing," she replied before dejectedly going to put the vase in her bedroom.

Upon her return, she found that everything was in a condensed state of disarray in her dining room. Everyone was crowded around the table, food piled high with little regard for laws of physics or any such nonsense. As there was no room left for her with everyone wildly scrambling for food, Bilbo simply stood to the side and watched with resignation. The food and dining room were a lost cause at that point. At least, for the time being, the rest of her home was spared. 

After countless minutes of watching the morbidly fascinating scene before her, she snagged an apple for herself from the chaos and went to find Gandalf again. On her way, Bilbo passed the chipper dwarf (who she now knew as Bofur), holding up a doily with a bemused look. "Do all you halflings keep your unmentionables out like this?"

Bilbo flushed scarlet from head to toe, mouth dropping open and unintelligible noises tumbling past her lips before she snapped her mouth closed with a loud click of her teeth and steeled her nerves. "No. Oh, dear. No. That's a doily. It's crochet."

"What a wonderful sport it is, too. Shame I never had the balls for it."

A nervous laugh startled its way out of Bilbo and she hurried off as soon as the dwarf became preoccupied with sausage links. Luckily, Gandalf was just outside the dining room, seemingly waiting for the hobbit. 

"Gandalf, I can't do this. My pantry is completely wrecked, my dining room looks like a troll has taken residence there. And I can't even tell you what they've done to my plumbing; I didn't even know women could do that much. I... I just don't understand what these dwarves are doing in my house." 

Before Gandalf could reply, another dwarf interrupted with a polite, "Excuse me." Bilbo was more than a little startled at not only being addressed, but at it being done so politely  She turned to face the older dwarf with the intricate halo of braids and soft gray beard framing her face, hesitant smile on her face. "Where should I put this?"

"Give it here, Dori," the young dark haired one said in passing, taking the plate from the other. Bilbo momentarily wanted to strangle her. 

What followed was a panic inducing game of toss-the-crockery wherein Bilbo watched as a large portion of her livelihood flew through the air. When the cutlery got involved she needed to step up. "Don't do that, you'll blunt them," she protested as two of the dwarves began clanging and clashing her knives together to form a beat.

"Oh, d'you hear that, ladies? She said we'll blunt the knives."

Two minutes later, after a rather unsettling song mocking her, she stared at the perfectly orderly pile of plates and bowls. The loud knock on the door spared her from having to stare at their too smug faces, however.

Thorin was... Thorin terrified Bilbo. She entered like a war goddess, armor on and a feral look about her. There was power in her eyes and a set to her body that told of undiluted pride. She was royalty and unashamed, proud of herself and her people. And she was fiercely, unapologetically dwarvish, only her diplomatic experience kept her from brazenly trampling Bilbo's culture. 

She also seemed to strongly dislike the hobbit for reasons unclear to Bilbo. Bilbo could take a hint, and stayed towards the entry way as they all talked about some mission they had their minds set on. 

It was the first time everyone was settled in one place, so Bilbo took the opportunity to get a good look at them all. She had been setting the gender thing aside for private contemplation, but it was just as good a time then as later. Some of the dwarves, if one were to set aside the issue of facial hair, were very obviously women. Kíli and Fíli were young, not as stocky as the rest and with minimal facial hair. Their sideburns didn't quite obscure the feminine features of their faces like a full fledged dwarf beard would. 

Dwalin was another story. She shaved her head on both sides of her head, intricate tattoos adorning the bald skin there, and the hair that was in the center pooled into a thick braid in the back. Her beard was so thick and her clothing so thick, she looked very much like a dwarven man. Bilbo paused in thought to contemplate if that would be considered offensive to them, and filed it away as a question to ask Gandalf at a later time. 

It wasn't really black and white, Bilbo decided. They all said they were women and, regardless of what Bilbo thought or observed, women they were. She left it at that. It wasn't fair, anyways, to judge them based on their facial hair, since hobbits never grew any. No one made assumptions about their men based on that. 

After that, she decided to just assess what made everyone different from one another. Ori was hearing impaired, apparently. Bifur had a head injury. Bofur was eccentric and nosy (though she may have been a tad bit biased on that assumption). Kíli and Fíli did things in sync. Bombur could out eat them all. Balin was wise, Dwalin terrifying. Nori apparently possessed great skill with hair weaving. Ori was so innocent and eager, it was endearing. Dori didn't speak much, and watched more than participated. Gloin and Oin avoided Bilbo at all costs and had very impressive weapons. And Thorin bared no contemplation, lest she have a heart attack.


	2. Apology Accepted

The meeting had, to be quite frank, scared the shit out of Bilbo. She was a very plain and simple hobbit, she thought, which were traits quite admirable to the halflings. Passing out at the thought of being torn to ribbons and cooked to a lovely medium-rare was something no one in The Shire would have faulted her for.

Her guests, apparently, thought otherwise. Gandalf stood before her, quite rudely ignoring her pounding headache and clear aversion to such activities as _adventures_. "Gandalf, this is my home. I'm wont to leave it for an adventure I have no business adventuring in. What does a party of dwarves need with a lousy hobbitess?"

Gandalf leaned over, taking full use of her height advantage to make Bilbo feel quite small. Her long silver hair dangled into the hobbit's face, who grimaced and swatted it away gently. "They need any help they can get. They're a stubborn race by nature, and that their own people rejected them only made Thorin want nothing to do with anyone else's help. She's quite livid about you being a hobbit."

"As well she should be. I say we let her have what she wants. I know when and where to stick my business and this is not the time nor place," Bilbo replies in the most polite but firm voice she could muster. It was quite a feat, being nearly three times smaller than her would-be aggressor.

"Bilbo Baggins," Gandalf said in reproach. "Your mother would be ashamed of you, turning down good people who need your help."

Bilbo stood quite abruptly at that, very livid but holding true to her hobbit upbringing and not storming out in a rage. "Regardless of what my mother would think, my answers remains as is. If you could tell my guests they can sleep wherever they feel most comfortable, I'd be most grateful. Now, good night, Gandalf."

She padded away before anyone else could catch her attention, though she caught eyes with Thorin in passing the small living area. She pretended not to notice the sorrow in the eyes glazed with steely resolve, closing her door none-too-gently behind herself. 

For a time, all was quiet and she mistakenly assumed her guests had taken to sleep. Then, while she was occupied with lacing her nightgown, a baritone voice drifted down her hall. Bilbo froze all action, leaning in instinctively to hear more. Gradually, more voices joined the first and it was hauntingly beautiful. 

Once she caught on to the words she realized it was a lament of sorts. Or a promise to reclaim something lost. She sighed heavily and sat down onto the edge of her bed, leaning against the bed post. She felt awful, admittedly, for not agreeing to go along with them. But she was not so willing to sign away her life for strangers and a mountain of gold. 

It seemed like an hour that she stayed as so, long after the voices had stopped and soft snoring replaced them, though she remained in thought. A quiet knock, barely audible over the noises of the night, startled her from her thoughts.

Rather reluctantly, she moved to open it, blinking in surprise at the dwarf on the other side of the door. Stripped of all clothing but her underclothes, and sans accessories, Bofur was hardly recognizable. If it wasn't for the sweeping braids or the playfully twisted mustache, Bilbo would have thought herself host to yet another dwarf. 

"Yes?" she asked after a few moments in silent shock. Bofur smiled warmly.

"May I come in?" And there were the long-forgotten manners that Bilbo had assumed were things of legends for the company. Though, technically, asking to enter someone's room during the hours in which one would be sleeping wasn't polite. She decided to take what she could get, nodding tightly and stepping aside to let the dwarf in, looking to the hallway for any other before closing the door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Was, uh, there anything I could help you with?" She was rather reluctant to hear the answer.

Bofur looked about the room before nodding to herself and turning back to face Bilbo. "I wanted to apologize, for earlier. It was rude of me to make you freak out like that. Gandalf tells me you little folk are easily squeamish."

Bilbo was a little bit taken aback by the apology, but she quickly bolstered past that to graciously accept it. "It's greatly appreciated. I know you meant no harm, though. Just a bit of fun between, um. Strangers."

That got a loud laugh out of Bofur and Bilbo instinctively shushed the woman. The dwarf quieted, but her grin said volumes. "Would you be willing to accept my apology token?"

Having never heard of an apology token, but not wanting to seem like a dolt, Bilbo replied, "Yes, of course."

This would later be viewed as a Bad Idea to the hobbit, as in that moment Bofur leaned in to place a less-than-chaste kiss to the woman's lips. Strong fingers worked their way right into her unruly curls and tugged her closer when Bilbo squeaked in surprise. 

A deft tongue snuck it's way between her lips to tease at the ridge of her mouth once, twice, three times, before Bofur removed herself entirely from the hobbit's personal space and bid her goodnight. 

By the time Bilbo came to terms with the kiss, it was high past her usual bedtime. She was asleep almost immediately after crawling beneath the covers and giving one last, body-wracking groan of frustration.


	3. The sisters Durin

Fíli and Kíli had been the weirdest out of all the dwarves, to Bilbo. She hadn't noticed it in the hustle and bustle of beginning an adventure, and had passed out the first night of setting up camp. But when they set up camp in the rock face  overlooking endless hills and trees, she finally picked up on it. 

It wasn't anything blatant, more subtle and only presenting a nagging sensation in the back of one's mind. But it was there. It started off just as that, a nagging sensation that something was off about them and she should notice it. 

Then she caught on. The two of them had been telling a story about something, just a silly story of when they were kids, but they would finish each other's sentences. Nearly every other sentence went like that. It seemed impossible, to so fluidly tell a tale while switching off between the two of them. It wasn't as if the sentences were so obviously laid out that the other could catch on. No, it was like the two of them shared the same thoughts. And they didn't even seem to register it. 

Their movements seemed synchronized as well. Kíli would lean forward to make a point at the same time that Fíli would slouch back with a smirk and take a drag from her pipe. Fíli would lean in to whisper something to Kíli, who was already leaning towards her without having to look. 

"And then we went inside," Kíli began, mouth twitching with held back laughter. 

"But we forgot all about the fact that our mother had banned us from the room," Fíli continued, leaning forward anxiously. Kíli leaned back with a bark of laughter for whatever was about to be said. "And Thorin was tying this man up with this elvish rope!"

Bilbo was more than a little stunned to hear that, and she cast a glance over to Thorin, who was pointedly looking away from the rest of the company. Everyone else was laughing and when Bilbo looked back to the sisters, they were collapsed into a heap on each other in mirth. Apparently, the implications of that story were lost on Bilbo. 

Later, after everyone was gathered around a fire, Bilbo sought out Gandalf again. She had already pestered the wizard on multiple occasions since meeting the dwarves, solving the mystery of whether or not women dwarves got offended by being called males (they did not) and how they even felt their chests after wearing all that armor (it was custom made). 

"So, Kíli and Fíli...?"

Gandalf sighed in good humor and put her pipe aside, patting the ground next to her. Bilbo dutifully sat down, legs folded beneath her and looking up at the elderly woman entreatingly. "Fíli and Kíli are... special."

"Yes, I got that much," Bilbo said slowly. 

Gandalf fixed her with a look and she shut up. "They are bonded mates," she explained, though held up a hand when Bilbo went to state the obvious. "This is what makes them special, for even among dwarves, incest such as that is forbidden. They do not, however, engage in sexual acts with each other. They're platonically bonded, though their love for one another is so strong that they rarely find any sort of sexual interest in anyone else."

"So... wait. Let me get this straight. They're married but it's not sexual? Why not just remain unmarried and leave it as that?"

"No, they're not married. I said bonded. To the dwarves, that's something else entirely. It is far more permanent and very binding. It's a merging of the mind and soul. It's not unheard of for this to be entirely platonic, especially among the elves."

Bilbo, who had never heard of such a thing among any race, took a long while to process this. She chewed the pad of her thumb and crinkled her eyebrows together before sighing and slumping in defeat. "I'm sorry, but I don't understand this at all."

"I'm not asking you to understand. I'm answering your question. They're seemingly one person because they've been bonded. I understand that this isn't heard of among hobbits, but I expect that you will treat this with the respect that you would a marriage."

"No, no! I didn't mean to sound judgmental or anything! I was simply curious. I... I don't know. It's really no business of mine."

She kept an eye on them for the rest of the night, curious to observe them with her new found knowledge. It was more obvious to her, their love. Their hands strayed to each other more often than not, always light and chaste. They exchanged hugs and kisses on the cheek, and really, it was cute. 

Bilbo decided to add that to the list of things she would never understand, but was okay with.


End file.
